


Take Me Anywhere

by perverbially



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gender or Sex Swap, Rule 63, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-01 09:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perverbially/pseuds/perverbially
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of vignettes in which Ling is a woman and Lan Fan is still totally into her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from Tegan & Sara's song, "Take Me Anywhere". Essentially I wanted lingfan lesbians. No regrets. Thanks to pelviscostello for keeping me as in check as is possible when you're dealing with that sort of reasoning :)

"My liege? Can't you sleep?"

The other girl turns within her blankets, flipping so that she is facing Lan Fan, her dark hair haystacked against the pillow. "Ugh. No. I'm just so _hungry._ I didn't realise crossing the desert would involve so much rationing." She slaps irritably at her belly through the sheets, leaving Lan Fan unsure whether it is her mouth or her stomach doing the grumbling. "When we get to Amestris the first thing we're doing is ordering room service."

Lan Fan smiles wryly. This is standard for her charge, and fortunately she has learned to be prepared. She reaches into her pack without leaving the cocoon of her own bedding, tossing a small parcel to the princess. 

"I did some foraging before we reached the desert. It's not much, but they are edible."

Ling sits up with a start, ripping into the package and spilling a pattern of seeds, nuts and fruit out on to her sheets. Through the low light of the tent, Lan Fan can make out the grin spreading across her face.

"Oh Lan Fan, I could kiss you," she breathes gratefully, throwing back a mouthful of blueberries. "You want some? Come, join me." She pats the bed beside her, folding gangly limbs to make space. Lan Fan wrestles her way out of her own bed and sits carefully on the edge of Ling's, occasionally taking a blueberry or two. Mostly, she watches the girl eat, hoping her hunger will subside before the meagre provisions do.

"Lan Fan, do you think I have an untrustworthy face?"

" _What?_ " the question surprises her so much she forgets herself, her exclamation much too loud, and much, much too rude. As her cheeks start to burn, Lan Fan is grateful for the darkness. "My liege," she appends quickly, fumbling for the right words. "Why would you think such a thing?"

"It's vain, I know. But Lan Fan... do you see the way people look at me sometimes? They think I'm suspicious."

"Then they are fools," is Lan Fan's staunch reply. "To think you could tell a person's intentions from their face alone is..." she trails off, shaking her head. "You have the face of the princess of the Yao clan, my Liege. Our people look to your face and they see hope. Those are the opinions that matter."

She realises she must be frowning when the princess gives her a bright, assuaging smile. "It doesn't trouble me, Lan Fan. Not as much as it troubles you, at least. Even if you resist silencing them, I can sense your anger a mile off."

Lan Fan bites her lip, dropping her gaze to her Master's bare feet. Ling's toes are long and expressive; she watches them curl as Ling leans back on her elbows, laughing. "Oh Lan Fan, why so down? I didn't mean it badly."

"If I am shaming you, my liege - "

"Shaming me?" Ling's eyebrows shoot up. "Quite the opposite. I couldn't wish for a better bodyguard. Who else would bring me blueberries at this hour, in the middle of a desert?" 

Lan Fan doesn't quite know what to say to this, so she takes a handful of pumpkin seeds to occupy her mouth. Ling shrugs her shoulders, still smiling broadly. "Well, I guess maybe a few people, if I'm honest... but you're my favourite and that's that."


	2. Chapter 2

"Lan Fan! Lan Fan, stop!"

Not for the first time her vassal doesn't stop, doesn't listen, and then there is blood _so much blood_ and it is just - just _everywhere_. She can't slow down to check, but the weight on her back is different, and the little shudders Lan Fan gives are becoming more violent, whole body convulsions that make it dangerously hard to keep her off the ground. 

"My liege," she says, faint and low. "My liege, you must - I must - "

She takes the chance, setting Lan Fan down against a wall, and the source of the blood is all at once obvious. She tears off her jacket before she knows what she's doing, grabbing the younger girl by the shoulder and pressing it tight against - against _what_ is no longer clear, but it feels frighteningly like muscle and flesh and bone and all she knows is that the bleeding must stop, must stop now or she'll burn out right here before her eyes. "Lan Fan what have you _done?_ "

"Quickly. There."

She inclines her head, and Ling follows her gaze.

"My arm. Use it, my liege."

"There's still a chance - "

"There's no time!" Lan Fan hisses roughly. As she says it, a fresh sheen of sweat breaks out on her forehead, the exertion of merely speaking its apparent cause. Her knees are buckling, and Ling can hear the monster approaching, even with the distance her own legs have ached to put between them. 

"Hold that," is all Ling can say, removing her hand from where it is pressed against the wound and replacing it with Lan Fan's own. "Hold that and don't let go."

She turns on the dog, dropping to a crouch. "Here, boy, c'mon..." It sniffs enthusiastically at the palm of her hand first, then at the lump of flesh she is cradling, the outstretched fingers she can barely look at. She fumbles at her stomach momentarily, severing a piece of fabric and looping it around the wrist (and it's just _the_ wrist, because if she thinks of it as Lan Fan's, she fears she might break down); when it's nice and tight she swoops on the dog before he realises her plan, searching her memory for the knot old man Fu taught her that will best serve her purpose.

When the deed is done she grabs Lan Fan, throwing her back over her shoulder, and she realises that maybe she's being a little rough, but there's so little time, so little precious time to make sure Lan Fan's sacrifice is not in vain. It's all on her and she runs because Lan Fan would, if their roles were reversed, only stopping when she reaches the safety of a street where the chi of the Homunculus is fainter. She draws her sword, using its edge to flip a manhole cover free, and dives straight in.

"I am sorry, my liege," is the first thing Lan Fan says when they are down there in the darkness and filth, with her clutching Ling's bloody jacket to her shoulder, knuckles white and red and taut. "I'm sorry, I have failed you - "

"Lan Fan, stop," Ling spits out, teeth gritted. She begins to tie her jacket around the wound, wincing when she finds it sopping wet with blood, the sick stale metal scent sharp in her nose. Lan Fan bows her head, sagging further against the wall. She jerks her body out of Ling's reach, a muscle twitching in her jaw. 

"There's another Philosopher's Stone. I can sense it."

"It'll wait."

"You must go. My liege, you must. Please." Lan Fan closes her eyes briefly. There doesn't seem to be any blood left in her, to Ling's gaze. Her skin is translucent white, nearing blue. "If we don't obtain a Stone, all of this will be for nothing."

Ling hesitates, one last second of indecision. 

" _Go_ ," Lan Fan urges, the black fire in her eyes leaving no room for argument.

And so Ling draws her sword, presses a kiss into the sweat and grime of her vassal's forehead, and runs.


	3. Chapter 3

What wakes her is the smell of iron, stale and sticky and metallic. She keeps her eyes closed, stubbornly clinging to the darkness for just a moment or two longer. In her mind she is holding Lan Fan's hand, squeezing warm fingers, but something is wrong; the hand falls from hers, disembodied, and her stomach drops. Lan Fan is cowering at her feet now, and this time it is _all_ wrong, but while her logical mind flags up all the ways in which this is a cheap imitation (her brow too drawn; mouth too pleading; eyes too helpless), her heart has a hold of her sword. Even if Ling couldn't sense the Homunculus crouching beneath her skin, she'd know this wasn't her vassal. And yet, against all reason, she is frozen, blinded.

She knows why she stopped. Deep down where she's not the twelfth heir and things are simpler, where she's just Ling, she knows what stilled her blade. 

She opens her eyes. 

 

\---

 

"This is what I'm supposed to work with, Father?"

The thunderous voice yanks her by the foot, flipping her in the slip-stream. She doesn't fight it, allowing her body to freefall. 

"If this is the best I'm gonna get, I guess I'll have to make do. Hand over the body, sweetheart."

"Take it!" Ling shrieks into the void. "I give it freely!"

"Huh?" The beast's presence hums, bemused. "Y'know, people usually reject me, girl. What gives?"

 

\---

 

_They sit, mother and daughter, painted face and bare, side by side. Ling toys with her mother's sleeve, snuffling back tears._

_"Won't old man Fu be sad? His son is - "_

_Mother look down her nose at her, but not unkindly. She smooths a strand of messy hair back behind Ling's ear. "He is your bodyguard. His family swore a sacred oath to serve and protect you. His primary concern is that his princess is safe and sound." She pauses, pursing tulip-hued lips. "...But yes. It is very sad when someone we have loved leaves us."_

_"It's all my fault," says Ling, and to her horror her voice wavers up and down hysterically, like she's about to start howling. "I was hungry and I wandered off and then - and t-then - "_

_"Ling," is all her mother says, looking off into the distance to give her a chance to compose herself. "He gave his life gladly to protect you. You will be Empress of Xing one day, in part due to his sacrifice. That is how you will honour him."_

_"But what if I'm no good at it? What if - ?"_

_"Then you must be."_

 

\---

 

"You're not dealing with a normal girl, monster," Ling yells, balling her fists. "I am Ling Yao, future Empress of Xing. I could take thirty of you in my heart if needs be!"

"Well, look at you. Ambitious. I can appreciate that. Just don't go changing your mind once we've sealed the deal."

"I won't change my mind," Ling replies, hoarse from bellowing above the roaring inside her own head. "My vassal gave her arm to help in my search for the stone. How could I face her if I returned empty-handed?! I need your power to protect my people. I need to take my place as ruler! I accept all the risks!

The voice that is Greed laughs, a clawing, reaching sound that seems to reverberate within her, itching at the back of her own throat.

"Okay, girl. Let's try this on for size."


	4. Chapter 4

One of the first things she does is run a bath, deep and hot, draining every one of the little bottles the hotel provides into it one by one.

"Nothing personal, sweetheart, but you stink."

She examines herself with interest as clothes come off, because fuck, if having a new body really isn't a wonderland. The shoes go straight in the trash, as does the coat, both saturated with the bloody residue of Gluttony's insides. The pants - also beyond repair, not to mention beyond _style_ \- hit the can next, and finally she's left in the princess's underwear. Chest bindings. Huh. A claw comes out, and they slither to the floor. 

_If you'd just let me use my hands, I could have undone those properly,_ pipes up the body's owner, tiredly. Maybe the brat needs putting to bed.

"No need, princess; I won't be wearing them again," Greed replies, kicking the pile of cloth away and setting her hands on her hips. The girl's image looks back at her from across the room, reflected in the full-length mirror. Workable. That's her first impression. Long, lean limbs, almost gangly, but there's muscle there, too - not a princess content to sit on her ass all day, then. She catches the reflection's eye and, upon finding her own expression curiously unreadable, she strides closer, pressing her nose against the glass. 

"So this is what a princess looks like close up," she says, so close her breath fogs the image. She tugs at the corner of her mouth, pulling her lips into an exaggerated leer. "Eh. Just another human, really, aren't you?" 

_If you were smart you'd learn not to underestimate humans_ comes the girl's voice. And then, in her head, Greed sees her swing her fist and for a moment she's confused about what she's doing, because it feels like she's - 

Blood watercolours its way through the mist on the mirror, the point where sharp fingers cut a swathe through unshielded flesh its source. Greed rolls her eyes, extricating the fist from its resting place within her rib-cage.

"Nice try, girl, but you're gonna have to try a little harder than - than - _oh_ \- " she chokes on her words, literally, coughing where invisible hands constrict at her throat, and then the tension releases and she's speaking, the words are leaving her lips, but it's _not_ her, it's barely even a sentence for that matter: _"look don't fight it I just need to write a message you'll get it right back just let me do this - "_

 _No_ , Greed hisses, _no, you promised._

But by this time the girl is already off, scrambling naked across the room, a thief on the run. Before her eyes, symbols start to burn into focus, bright red slashes on a strip of discarded sarashi.

 _I don't like liars,_ Greed warns her, her rage flashing up and down the girl's bare arms, dark and sharp, a burning, indignant chorus of _how dare you take what's mine how fucking **dare** you, girl._ The only thing keeping her from crushing the brat's soul on the spot is curiosity, curiosity at what could possibly be so important it couldn't be written in _pen_ , for fuck's sake.

"I just need to get a message to my vassal," Ling chokes desperately, chest heaving with the effort of holding on to her body, "I promised her, and I know you are a woman of your word, so you should understand what that means. Please, Greed, just get this to her?"

_Get out now and I'll think about it._

And to Greed's surprise, Ling does, relinquishing control so abruptly Greed almost doesn't realise she's back in the driver's seat until the bathwater begins to lick at her bare legs. She casts an eye to the overflowing tub. 

"You're lucky I wasn't gonna pay for this room anyway, brat."

\---

_It's getting worse, and fast. Three attempts on the young liege's life this month alone; two attempted poisonings and one ill-advised attempt to break into her chambers by a young clansman armed with a knife. Usually she and grandfather are evenly matched in their tallies, although at present he's ahead, having foiled both poisonings at their source (a new grain supplier, and not one who will live to trade again). It doesn't trouble Lan Fan. She doesn't care who deals the blows, so long as they are dealt; so long as these attempts remain just that._

_The frequency disturbs her, however. Desperation is setting in, bringing with it a certain entropy for which they can't always account. The last attempt, with the knife-wielding man, had been closer than usual, and almost embarrassing in its lack of finesse: the man had seemed half out of his mind, and Lan Fan can't help remembering the sudden, racking sobs when she brought him down, the total desolate hopelessness in his eyes. It was clear to her then that the poor wretch's whole life was hanging upon completing this task, upon the act of murdering her master._

_Privately, it chills her to the bone._

_Then one bright morning, Ling calls to her, beckoning her down from her perch in the rafters of the family's library._

_"Lan Fan, you know what this means?" the princess says, jabbing a finger excitably at the pages spread before her on the ground. "The Philosopher's Stone. The rumours are true, Lan Fan! They have to be!"_

_Lan Fan doesn't sit, but she crouches at the princess's side, frowning at the texts. She knows the young liege has been researching the Philosopher's Stone for months now, has taken them to near enough every library in Xing, begging, borrowing and stealing as many of the references to it as she can get for her own collection. This is the most credible mention yet._

_"But this... you think they can be found in Amestris, my liege?"_

_"Exactly," Ling replies smugly, and from her pocket she pulls out a crumpled sheet, thrusting it under Lan Fan's nose. "Look at this, I've been drawing up a route... I want to see the ruins we talked about at Xerses, you see...? And then after that, straight through, arriving on Amestris's eastern border **here**."_

_"This would still take some time, my liege," Lan Fan says slowly, looking up and inadvertently straight into Ling's eyes. When she got so close, she doesn't know, only that Ling is the only person who has ever been able to so consistently catch her off-guard like this. Her cheeks redden violently behind her mask, but Ling doesn't seem to notice, kneeling up to put her hands on Lan Fan's shoulders._

_"That's why we have to leave as soon as possible. With the Emperor's health declining so fast... we cannot waste a moment longer. Besides," she looks at Lan Fan knowingly, tilting her head, and Lan Fan senses that she is about to play her trump card, "...I'll be far safer in Amestris than I will be here, isn't that right?"_

\---

It feels like a million years ago, in some long lost, bittersweet dream. She lies, useless, little more than a broken doll in a game she had never believed they could lose. How could they when they were together, the three of them, her family? 

It was all so clear before. She knew her purpose, and from there it all unfurled, their future not easy but still _certain_. She knew what she had to do. Protect the young liege. Protect her whatever it took. Whatever the cost. But this... the price she has paid this time feels for all the world as though it has circled back on them, predator-like, a double-edged sword pressed sharp against the throat of the very person she was supposed to protect.

When the note arrives, the scent of it almost confirms her worst fears. Blood spilled, dark like rust, layered against a lingering hint of sandalwood; it brings to her memories so vivid she almost heaves, memories of running and Ling's arm over her back and the sweat dripping as she struggled to protect her, protect _Lan Fan_ , of all the absurd oxymorons.

But she reads it, forces herself, and that one line in Ling's handwriting sends her heart soaring. 

_I've found a Philosopher's stone._

They watch her as she sinks to the ground, bewildered staring eyes on her shaking back. They ask her what it says, what it says of all the things, and she wants to scream at them _She's done it she's done it **she's done it**_ , the sky-high relief and rapturous joy of it almost too much to hold in. 

"It says... it says she's found a Philosopher's stone." Speaking the words aloud seem to break the dam within her, the wall holding back the tide of everything that will change with this news. Tears spark at her eyes, and she presses her face into the cloth, breathing in the scent of Ling, now the most obvious thing in the world to her. "She has saved our people. The young liege has saved us all! We must go back to our country, we must spread the news! Where is she, Alphonse, you must take me to her, please!"

He looks at her, and is so quiet, so _still_ that it sickens her. She is crashing to earth in an instant, dragged back to her own aching bones and flesh and heart, and she can't _think_ except to beg him, blindly, to tell her what has happened to the princess.

"I'm so sorry, Lan Fan," Alphonse says, when he is finished, sounding so misguidedly guilty it almost makes her weep. "We wanted to stop her, but she wouldn't let us..."

Of course she wouldn't, thinks Lan Fan. _Of course_. The urge to cry becomes a wild desire to laugh, because she sees the truth of it now, all too clearly. The blade at her master's throat, ever-present in her dreams and waking alike: the double-edged sword which was destined for Ling herself to wield all along.


End file.
